The cowering grass covered in morning dew
And the Georgia pines kingly and tall-
As the shy little creatures share sleep
In cozy nests, they make not a peep.
There, I survey golden colors like fall,
Yet it is not a season in view.
The line is stretched, wood fingers hold tight
As the gentle Southern breeze let’s live.
The golden morning revives as colors renew.
A masterpiece of beauty entrances my view.
As a surgeon, worn fingers stitched it to give
Warming comfort and cover at night.
© Loyd C. Taylor, April 2009
A memory from my childhood of mom’s quilt hanging on
the clothesline. I hope the photo looks okay; it was difficult to find a way to shoot them without some sort of distortion to their size and color. I wanted to show how my mother designed these. Each one was sewn with scraps of old clothing and rags. Each one was done by hand. These will always be precious to me.
In memory of my mother Arizona Taylor